See You There
by Elsha
Summary: Three Hogwarts students realise that in the coming war, no-one can be neutral - and all must decide where they stand. A short prequel to Unity, featuring Anne, Theodore, and Estella. Contains some OoTP spoilers.


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See You There

Author's Note:This is another short first person fic, showcasing the actual moments when Theodore, Estella, and Anne decided to join Dumbledore's Army, and what their motives were for doing so. Another little view into the Slytherin psyche, in two cases, and a Hufflepuff as well. 

A longer, chaptered fic covering how Theodore and Anne met in the first place is being written - expect the first chapter in a week or two (depending.) There will also be a short piece on Estella's Sorting. As yet there is no sequel to Unity in the works, but several ideas may coalesce given time. 

Disclaimer: It all belongs to the lovely JK Rowling, etc., except for Estella and Anne. We're just mucking around waiting for the sixth book to come along and make all of this AU. (Only another, what, two years and eleven months?)

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Estella  
I'm not an approachable person. Everyone knows that. I'm hard, and I'm tough, and I don't have friends. I have goals and allies. Besides, I'm a Slytherin, and for half the school and more that defines me as evil without chance of redemption. In my more depressive moments, I tend to believe they're right. After all, I've never been out to be nice, to them or anyone else. 

But despite all that, despite all the walls I've put up, I'm walking across the ground back from Care of Magical Creatures one sunny autumn afternoon when Luna Lovegood, of all people, falls into step with me. She may be in my year, but it's not as if I talk to her or anything. Although she does tend to talk to me. I ignore her a lot. 

"Hi, Estella" she says in that vague way of hers. I nod back, curtly. She may be weird, but she commands a certain amount of respect from me now – after all, word has it she went with Potter and his friends to that fight at the Ministry last June, and came back nearly unscathed. Against Death Eaters. That's frankly quite impressive. Okay, so she helped put my cousin in Azkaban, but it's not like he would even deign to call me that. That's what I've been aiming at for four years now; making Draco Malfoy, and by extension his father, let me in. Acknowledge me, halfblood though I am. 

So far, no luck. 

"What do you want, Lovegood?" There's no need to be _too_ friendly. She is a Ravenclaw, and part of Potter's circle, and I can't afford to be seen getting too near any of them. Not that any of them but Luna would ever talk to me. I'm an evil dangerous Slytherin, after all.

"I was wondering" she says, blue eyes looking at me dreamily "if you'd like to come and do some extra Defence practice with us. In the evenings. I thought you'd like to, you know, you're quite good at Defence, but you can get even better." 

"Join that group of Potter's? Me? I've got news for you, Lovegood, one, I'm a Slytherin, and I know what they think of us. I'd be out the door before I could say hello. Two, why should I want to get involved in your lot?" 

"There's a war, you know, and people have to choose sides now. I rather thought you'd be on ours. It's on the seventh floor, by the tapestry of Barnabas the Baffled. On Thursday at seven. Come if you want to." With that she walks away across the grounds, still seemingly lost in her own little world. I narrow my eyes as I stare after her. What have I done wrong? What have I done to make her think I'd join them, Potter and his lot, fighting the Dark Lord, I've spent years trying to get in good with people who follow the Dark Lord. To make them accept me as family. I have a goal, and I'll do whatever it takes, I'll be a Death Eater if I have to, not that it's likely they'd have me-

The evening breeze ruffling the lake suddenly feels chill. A Death Eater. To torture and murder andwould I do that? How far _am _I willing to go? That's not something I've ever thought about before. I've just always hadthe focus. Now that's shaking, it's vanishing, and the awful cold feeling in my gut isn't going anywhere fast. And the persistent little voice is still talking. 

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You can do this. You should. Join Potter, and learn how to fight better and faster. You know he can teach that; look at Longbottom, Lovegood, all of them, look how they've changed. You can learn that. And you can take it and throw it back in that smug bastard Malfoy's face. You don't need_ to be on his side. You never did. You can win by beating him, not joining him. You've tried that, it's not going to work. You are a halfblood. That is all he will ever see you as, no matter what you did to prove yourself. And all the while you would just be a toolor worse, a toy_

I stop, staring out across the lake and to the Forest beyond. Change sides. Can I do that? The war has begun, and I am on the Dark Lord's side by default, and by choice. Because I am a Slytherin, and because I have spent so long wanting to prove myself to Malfoy, doing what I think will impress him and his gang, ridiculing the other Houses, pushing myself to be the best. All for nothing, for little have I ever got back. Just scorn. But if I can change sidesand changing sides this will be. Everyone knows that Potter will be the leader in this war. Oh, Dumbledore is there, and the Minister, the pathetic fool, but Potter is more than that. He is the symbol, the focus, the Boy Who Lived, who has faced down Voldemort not once but four times. He can teach us, the students, to survive, if anyone can. The Defence Professor this year is good but Potter is the one with the luck and the talent. Besides, other rumours are coming to my memory now; how everyone did so abysmally in the Defence OWL except a group that Potter coached. How some of that same group, Lovegood and Longbottom and Granger and the Weasleys, went to London – no-one knows why or how – and fought the Death Eaters, the Lestranges and Malfoy and the Azkaban escapees. And stayed alive until the Aurors got there, alive and denying them whatever it is they wanted. If I can be part of thatI can face Malfoy one day, and defeat him, and win. And see him realise I'm not just as good as him. 

I'm better than he'll ever be, because I won't take murder and torture as a way of life. I won't.  
But choosing a side, changing sides

That I will do. 

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Theodore  
Ancient Runes is usually quite an interesting class. I've always liked languages, and translation is fun. It's like the music I love so much – it tells you something, in a new way. I wonder if Anne knows any other languages? I know she doesn't take Ancient Runes, but I have a feeling she might know some French. She's certainly memorized all the words used in music. 

We're doing a written translation exercise right now, and I've finished, so I'm letting my mind wander. Most other people have their heads bent and are writing quietly; after all, this mixed class consists of people who are genuinely interested in the subject, and there's few enough of them. Whispers in front of me catch my attention. It's Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor genius, whispering something to Anthony Goldstein. 

"Anthonyare you coming to the meeting on Thursday, or going to the Charms Club?"

"The meeting, of course" he whispers back. "Harry was teaching us Patronuses last time. I'm not missing that for anything!" 

Potter? He's teaching people Patronuses? That's _very_ advanced magic. I'm impressed. It must be for that Defence club that Malfoy and everyone interrupted last year, Dumbledore's Army or whatever it was. Dumbledore may have taken the blame but everyone knows – everyone in Slytherin, anyway – it was just to shield Potter. So they're doing it again – Potter and his motley group of Mudbloods and halfbreeds and blood traitors, or so they all are according to my father. Preparing to stand against the Dark Lord, practicing to defy him. As I will never do; not until I'm of age, anyway, and can run. Far from my father and hisassociates, from the evil he serves. I don't want to be like Potter and his lot. They aren't like us, they aren't as good as us. But – I have no desire to kill them, either. Or torture them, or drive them out. It just isn't worth it. I know what my father goes through, being a Death Eater. I've seen him come home after being tortured by the Dark Lord for his failures, seen him bitter and twisted and blaming all the Muggleborns for it. That isn't what I want to be. Ever. But it seems increasingly likely I'll be pressured into it, and I'm not quite sure how to escape that trap. So I bury my head in the sand, in schoolwork and music and Anne, and try to forget. The first two work after a fashion, but Anneshe is Muggleborn. She asks too many questions, represents too many things, for me to forget when I'm around her. And still I don't cut her off. What's wrong with me? 

My ruminations are interrupted by Professor Ecrivan. "Have you finished, Nott?"

I'm pulled back to the class with a start. "Yes, sir."

"Very good. Start reading the third chapter, if you please. You too, Miss Granger, Mr. Goldstein, if it isn't interrupting your little conversation."

There's been an interesting change in Granger. Last year she would have blushed at that; now she just gets out her book. Her skin has got thicker. Maybe it's being around Potter and Weasley for five years. Potter does seem to have strange effects on people, look at Longbottom for onehe's changed. It must be that club of his. I wonder what it would be like to join. Might even be a good idea

The incongruity of that hits me so hard I jump, and nearly lose my place in the book. I'm actually considering going to ask Potter if I can join his little club? Why? Sure, I'd probably get a lot better at Defence. And fighting, and I'll need that. And it would be a way of joining the other side without declaring my loyalties openly. If I did, they'd keep it a secret if I asked, maybe, they're good at secrets, and when the time came I wouldn't have to throw myself on their mercy, the day I abandon my family

I can't be serious. But – who else do I go to? To join the other side? The teachers won't listen, I don't have an idea how to talk to DumbledorePotter is the symbol of those who fight the Dark Lord. More, he's a leader, even if he doesn't realise it. So many people in the school look up to him. If Harry Potter was right about the Dark Lord's return, if he had the guts to stand up to Umbridge, they say, then we should follow him. 

Should I? 

I'll never be friends with him or any of his. I know that, without having to think about it. We're too different, I'm too Slytherin, I don't _like_ any of them. But you don't have to like allies, just trust them. Trust is hard to come by for me. Yet, for months now, I've known that a day will come when I'll have to stand up and say, I am not with those who work for the Dark Lord. And if you are not for him, you are against him. I've been trying to put that day off – but I may not have the luxury of time. It won't be easy, he knows about my father, and he hates our House with a passion. But it seems that I will have to try. If I go to Potter, ask to join his group, then I will have put everything in place. As long as I can keep my decision hidden

There's more to this, too. Anne. She's Muggleborn, she's a target, she will be attacked. She has to do this, I'll tell her to, so she can protect herself, so she can be safe. Despite Granger, Muggleborns aren't as good at magic, that's a fact, so Anne will need the practice. I'm not going to let anything happen to her. She'sa friend, yes; maybe more, even though that's impossible; but I find lately I have trouble remembering that she's not like me, not one of my sort, because she _is_. 

So – I will go to Potter, and I will ask to join, and for Anne, too. I will stake out where I stand. I don't want to, but in this warI cannot stand aside, but God, how I wish I could. 

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Anne  
I'm walking down a corridor on the third floor, heading for the Great Hall and dinner, when the door to one of the disused classrooms opens. A hand shoots out, grabs me by the upper arm, and yanks me in. I yet out a startled yelp before I see that it's Theo who is shutting the door behind me, and locking it, too. 

"Theo, I'm going to _dinner_", I protest, somewhat amused. I got to know Theo better over the summer, through a long and interesting exchange of letters, better than I ever did in my fourth year at Hogwarts. We only got to see each other once or twice a week – for anything more than a second, that is. With us being in different Houses, and years, and Theo being a Slytherin and me being Mugglebornstill, pulling me into empty classrooms is a new technique. 

He lets me go, and smiles ruefully. The evening sun is streaming through the windows, lighting up trails of dust in this unused room, and giving his dark hair a halo I know he doesn't deserve. 

"I'm sorry, but I needed to have a word with you now, and I wouldn't have seen you till Saturday otherwise." Saturday, when we meet in the half-hidden rooms on the fourth floor to play music and talk and enjoy each other's company. That's how I know Theodore Nott at all; I walked into him on a rainy Saturday, carrying my flute, and he had enough curiosity - or was bored enough - to follow the Muggleborn student to wherever she was going. To listen to her playing, and come back again when he was sent away. Brazen arrogance, but I can forgive him for it now. 

"Never mind. What's so important it couldn't wait?" I look up at him – and up it is, he's got about half a foot on me – with a twist of anxiety. I don't think it can be that Malfoy or his cronies know Theo and I arewell, going out, I guess, although that's a very recent development. Friends, certainly. It wouldn't matter for me at all, but his family would beless than pleased, and his life would be a living hell. He's walking a dangerous line, Theo; trying to avoid letting on he's anything less than loyal to his father and his father's loyalties until he's of age. Not that he really sympathises with any Muggleborn except me, I think, but he's uneasy enough to not want to get caught up in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers. 

"You know Potter?"

"Who doesn't?" Who indeed. The Boy Who Lived, even I know all the stories around him, and I knew nothing of magic or wars until I got my letter for Hogwarts four years ago. 

"He and his friendslast year, they had some sort of a Defence Against the Dark Arts club. To practice. They're doing it again this year, with permission."

"And?" I stare at him, bemused. What does this have to do with us? I thought Theo's goal was to stay out of everyone's way. To be neutral, as far as one can be in this war. 

"And I asked him yesterday if I could join. He said yes, eventually, and he said you could come too."   
My jaw drops. "You're going to let a bunch of other students know you disagree withyour familyAND that you're"

"Fraternising with the enemy?" he says with a smirk. 

"Well, yes!"

Theo runs a hand through his dark hair. "Look, AnneI can't just stay out of the way anymore. I can't pretend. This is a war, and I have to choose sides. Sooner or later I'll have to let everyone know that, but for nowI'm going to keep it quiet for as long as I can. But I had to find a way of"

"Signing up on the list of people who want to fight You-Know-Who." 

He sighs. "Yes. Potter was the only person I could talk to that I could be sure was on the list, as it were, and would know how to get me on it, too. To extend the metaphor."

I nod, slowly. "But why do you want me to come?"

"Anne-" he grasps my shoulders, staring down at me with near-painful intensity. "You're a target. You're Muggleborn. They'll be after you, and I need you to know how to protect yourself. If this extra practice thing will help that - then you have to do it."

I smile and shake my head. Some things never change. "When will you stop trying to give me orders, Theodore Nott?"

He shakes me. "Anne, you have to! People are already dying! Some students haven't come back, and you know why! Promise me you'll come tonight!" 

I feel my smile drop away. He's right. Some students have not returned, this year. Little Elise Martin, who would have been a second year in my House. Her mother is – was – a Muggle. She died in pain and fear, a twelve-year-old girl who had done nothing to attract anyone's anger or attention. Nothing but be. The teachers can try, butif anyone can teach us how to survive, Harry Potter can. 

"I'll come. I promise. Okay?" I put my hand on his shoulder. "I don't intend to die." 

Theo leans forward to kiss me on the forehead, softly, and we just stand there for a minute, in that dusty classroom, surrounded by the setting sun. Then the moment fades, and we step apart. 

"Meet me at the top of the seventh-floor staircase, tonight at five to seven."

"I'll be there." 

Theo gives me a quick hug, for comfort I think, and then leaves. I let the echo of his footsteps die away before I poke my head out. No-one's coming, so I slip out and back along the corridor, towards dinner and voices and a world where I have to learn to fight because otherwise I might die. 

Life was so much easier before Theo. I'm sure he thinks the same of me. But thenlife isn't meant to be easy. So I resist the urge to run back to my dorm and hide under the bed until the war is over, and walk onwards, to dinner and whatever lies ahead. 


End file.
